There's No Place Like Home
by lalapine
Summary: Lee's disappearance and an unwelcome package to their house cause Amanda to worry that family and work just don't mix.


TheresNoPlaceLikeHome

Title: There's No Place Like Home  
Author: Tammy M. Parnell  
Email: LaLapine@aol.com  
Disclaimer: SMK & its characters belong to Warner Bros, Shoot the Moon Prods, KJ, BB, et al. No infringement is intended.  
Note: Thanks, Pat, for all your feedback. :)  
  
Summary: Lee's disappearance and an unwelcome package to their house cause Amanda to worry that family and work just don't mix.  
  
  
There's No Place Like Home  
by Tammy M. Parnell  
  
Her eye traced the broken brown leaf that skittered across the grass. It was about the size of her hand, but chips outlined the dried-up specimen. The wind carried it beyond her sight, and she shivered.  
  
"It's only been three days," she thought, wrapping her arms snugly around herself against the bitter chill of the October wind. Swirls of other leaves wound their way through the air as gusts caught her hair and creeped down her blouse. She heard the crunch of feet approaching, and she looked up.  
  
"You're going to make yourself sick, Amanda," a warm voice gently admonished her.  
  
Her face wavered slightly, as though trying to decide whether or not to let the tears fall. Billy's look was both sympathetic and stern. She composed herself. "I'm heading home in a few minutes," she lied. How could she possibly go home now?  
  
They stood in silence several minutes, observing the blustery autumn evening. Dusk was setting in over the park, and it was mostly abandoned. Billy checked himself from lecturing his agent on the dangers that could fall to lone women after dark in deserted parks, especially those in her position.  
  
Of their own volition, the silent tears leaked from Amanda's already red eyes, rolling softly down her cheeks. Billy clasped her hand tightly, wishing he could give her hope.  
  
She whispered, "I don't know how much longer I can go on like this." How can it have only been three days? she wondered to herself, feeling as though half of her had been missing for months now.  
  
"The lab will have the results soon, Amanda. We can do nothing but wait." Billy, even with his years of experience, was scared. He couldn't imagine how Amanda was feeling.  
  
"I'm tired of waiting. My mother and kids want to know where Lee is. Why did they have to send it to the house?" Anger overtook her sorrow. "Why do my boys have to be going through this?"  
  
It was a rhetorical question, Billy knew, and he remained silent.   
  
She continued. "I knew that my family could be involved. We both knew the risks. Lee asked me time and again if I was sure I was willing to pay the price. But I never really expected" Her voice trailed off. "How would I live with myself if it were Phillip or Jamie?"  
  
"They wanted Lee," Billy gently reminded her.  
  
"And what better way to get to him?"  
  
"You."  
  
Amanda acknowledged him with a nod. "I wish it had been me."  
  
"No, you don't."  
  
She relented. "Only for my boys' sakes." What if it had been her? Then not only would it be worse on her children, but Lee would be going through this emotional torture. "It's hard enough as it is. Thank goodness Joe is staying with them."  
  
"When did he get back in town?" Billy was glad she and her family had someone they could count on.  
  
"I called him that night. The boys needed him." She looked ashamedly away. "I needed him."  
  
"Of course you did. You need all the support you can get." I wish I could help, Billy added silently, knowing there was only one man who could truly make her distress disappear.  
  
A visible chill swept her body.  
  
"Amanda, you need to get home. You haven't slept in days." He noted the darkened bags under her red eyes.  
  
"I can't," she whispered, trying not to shake. She had never felt this helpless before. She was used to having a plan and taking action in whatever she pursued, whether it be coaching Little League or strategizing a case. But this, this left her with nothing but endless, unproductive time on her hands. Time where she had nothing but her thoughts and overzealous imagination.  
  
Billy sighed, helpless. "Then let's go back to the Agency. We can wait for word there. I have the lab techs working overtime on this one."  
  
She nodded wordlessly and allowed her supervisor to lead her back down the familiar sidewalk.  
  
***  
  
One Week Earlier  
  
Lee tried not to look guilty as his wife lectured him. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, and they had spent the day together as a family. Hamburgers cooked slowly on the grill, and all would have been perfect if Amanda hadn't cleaned out his jacket for the dry cleaners.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her dark eyes flashed more of hurt than of anger. This was not the kind of thing to keep secret.  
  
"Amanda, honey, these things are routine," he explained, throwing a pass to his youngest stepson. "Good catch, Jamie!"  
  
Phillip peeked around the fence, preparing to launch a surprise attack. He barreled towards his brother. "It's tackle football!"  
  
Jamie started then had just enough time to cover his face before Phillip knocked him down. They began wrestling good-naturedly. Lee grinned.  
  
"Hello?" Amanda reminded him that they had not finished. "I'm not a civilian anymore. Don't give me that 'routine' or 'need to know' garbage."  
  
"I didn't want to worry you." Lee was truly contrite. He didn't realize his wife would be so upset. Well, he admitted to himself, he'd had an idea, but compared to the worry she would have felt over the letters, he felt he'd picked the lesser of two evils.  
  
"I have a right to know. If not personally, then professionally." Amanda understood that he wanted to protect her, but she was also hurt--he knew that she didn't need him to shield her from his job--it was her job, too, and she was proud at how far she had come.  
  
He relented. "You're right; I'm sorry." He shouldn't have treated her like a novice. But sometimes he forgot that their fateful meeting at that train station was a long time ago. As much as he wanted to keep her from having to worry, she should have known.   
  
She lowered her voice, observing that he seemed sincere. "So, it said 'I'm watching you.' Who do you think sent it?"  
  
Lee tried to dismiss it, not sure himself if it was even worth worrying over. "It was probably just some punk."   
  
She observed him astutely. "This isn't the first note he's sent, is it?"  
  
She was on to him, just as she always was. "Did I ever tell you how intelligent you are?" he grinned.  
  
"Lee." Her tone meant business.  
  
"Okay. The next one said, 'Watch your back.' And the third," he paused. "The third one said, 'I know where you live.'"  
  
"And to prove it," she supplied, "They mailed it here."  
  
"The Agency is looking into it, honey. They'll take care of it."  
  
"Aren't you worried?"  
  
"About what?" Phillip asked, having come over to find out why they had grown so serious.  
  
"Spy stuff?" Jamie asked hopefully.  
  
"That is on a need-to-know basis, Sherlock," Amanda replied. "Now both of you junior spies go get washed up for dinner." They left reluctantly.  
  
Lee watched them go. "Of course I'm worried. I'm worried enough for both of us."  
  
"If I had known, I would be taking better precautions with them."  
  
"Like what?" Lee asked realistically. "Kept them home from school? Locked them in their rooms? Besides, the notes threaten me, not my family."  
  
"Same difference." It was hard for her to be mad at Lee after all they had been through, but his blasé attitude was frustrating. "Why do you have to keep things from me?"  
  
"Amanda," he reached for her arm, but she stepped back. "I'm not keeping things from you. Just this one thing."  
  
"Just?"  
  
"I have agents watching the house. They follow the boys and Dotty if they go somewhere."  
  
"And me?" Lee's silence answered her question. "But not you."  
  
"Yes, actually."  
  
"Billy made them," she concluded, knowing her husband's aversion to being watched.  
  
"You know how he is."  
  
"Lee, you have a family now. You can't pretend that--"  
  
"I'm not pretending, Amanda," he raised his voice. "I know my responsibilities. I love you and the boys. I would give my life to protect you."  
  
"Then you need to start caring about yourself." She started to walk away to prove her point, but he grabbed her arm.  
  
"Don't be mad. Please. I know I should have told you. It was a mistake."  
  
It was up to her how this conversation ended. She hated fighting with him, even as rare an occurrence as it was. She met his eyes. "We love you, too. How do you think it would affect us if something happened to you?"  
  
"I'm sorry." He pulled her into an embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. "I promise I won't keep you in the dark anymore. I thought I was doing what was best. But while I was watching your back I forgot that I need you to watch mine, too."  
  
She squeezed him tightly, letting go just enough to meet his eyes. "It's my tail, too," she answered, alluding to the day when they had admitted to each other that they were in love.  
  
He smiled and leaned in for a kiss, which was returned with enthusiasm.   
  
***  
  
Four Days Later  
  
"MOM! Mom!" A cry as close to terror as she had ever heard slammed her ears. She rushed to the living room. Phillip's face was pale with fright. He held out a package retrieved from the mailbox. Jamie ran downstairs to see what the commotion was.  
  
"Sweetheart, what is it?" Amanda prodded, glancing at the package.   
  
Phillip thrust the package at his mother. "Here!" He felt that the contents spoke for themselves.  
  
"What is it, Phil?" Jamie asked, confused. His brother shook his head, not daring to reveal what he had discovered. "Mom?"  
  
Amanda sat down slowly, noticing the address label; typed, no return address--just as the latest threat had been. She assumed it to be another and set it down to try and explain that it was nothing to worry about.  
  
"No, Mom," Phillip insisted. "It's more than that."  
  
"I saw this in a movie once," Jamie added. "The bad guy cut out newspaper letters and pasted them in a kidnap note. He--"  
  
"Shut up!" Phillip hit him.  
  
"Mom!" Jamie reached to return the offense, but Amanda held them apart.  
  
"Boys, be still for a minute." They sat on opposite ends of the couch, while Amanda opened the package. She reached inside as Jamie watched with curiosity; Phillip put his head on his knees so as not to look. Her fingers grasped the object to pull it out then let go just as quickly. She immediately closed the package, her hands trembling as she set it on the coffee table.  
  
"What?!" Jamie was beside himself.  
  
Amanda looked gravely at her sons. She wished she could tell them it was some Halloween prank, but she knew they were too smart to buy that excuse. She had to compose herself. "Boys, will you please go to your room? I'll be up in a minute."  
  
Phillip rose slowly. "There's a note." Then he went upstairs. Jamie decided to follow his brother, noting the expression on his mom's face.  
  
Amanda took a few deep breaths before pulling out the folded piece of notebook paper. She reached for the phone.  
  
"Melrose."  
  
"They have him," Amanda said clearly, not yet having registered the significance of her discovery.  
  
"When?" Billy didn't need to ask who, and from the tone in her voice, he knew it was serious.  
  
"I don't know. They sent a package." She wasn't sure how the words were coming out, as her throat was suddenly parched. It seemed as though someone else was talking methodically into the phone.  
  
The furrows deepened in Billy's brow. "The same person who has been threatening Lee?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What's inside?" he dared ask.  
  
She paused only briefly. "A human finger."  
  
"And a note?" he guessed.  
  
"'You're next.'"  
  
***  
  
Present Day  
  
Amanda paced distractedly across the Q-Bureau, lecturing herself at her lack of emotional control. She had never been a great "tough guy" but her training as an agent was something in which she took pride. Why wasn't it kicking in now? She needed to be professional, but it was difficult to do with tears coming from nowhere.  
  
"Not exactly nowhere," she reminded herself wearily.  
  
She jumped at the voice that answered her, "You should get some rest."  
  
Amanda turned to see Francine Desmond sitting at Lee's desk. "How long have you been here?"  
  
"Just a few minutes," she said gently. "I came to see if you were okay."  
  
"It's the middle of the night," Amanda answered, sitting on the edge of the desk. Over the years, she and Francine had developed a professional respect for one another, though they weren't exactly friends.  
  
"We're all worried," and with an uncharacteristic squeeze of Amanda's hand, she continued, "We will find him." As much as Francine liked to crack jokes about Amanda being some ditzy housewife, this was no time for hidden animosity. Lee was important to both of them, and they had to stick this one out together.  
  
"He could be dead," Amanda said, voicing her worst fears aloud for the first time.  
  
"He could be alive," Francine countered. "We don't know anything yet. Scarecrow can take care of himself."  
  
Amanda stared at her colleague for a moment before saying, "I need to get out of here."  
  
"Let's go." Francine took her hand, and they rode the elevator down to the last floor of the basement, a confusing array of files, boxes, and old equipment. "I know this isn't exactly what you meant," she acknowledged.  
  
"No, it's fine," Amanda replied. "I need to stay close."  
  
Francine nodded, and they sat in silence for several minutes. "I'm sorry," the senior agent said suddenly, feeling the need to do something, anything, that might help the situation.  
  
"This wasn't your fault," Amanda answered, surprised that Francine would take responsibility.  
  
"No, no. I mean, I know I haven't always been very nice to you, and I wish things had been different. I shouldn't have given Lee such a hard time about marrying you."  
  
Amanda smiled in spite of herself. "I wouldn't change a thing. It's been kind of fun."  
  
Francine laughed. "Yeah. The person you love to hate."  
  
"I never hated you. Well, maybe a little." She gave her a sideways look and saw that she was smiling.  
  
The levity faded and gave way to the seriousness of the situation. "Billy's put your family on protection?" Francine asked.  
  
"They're at a safe-house," Amanda confirmed. "Joe, my ex, flew in to be with the boys. I should be with them, too--but I wouldn't be much comfort. Mother... well, she doesn't know about the package; the boys agreed to keep it a secret. That's the last thing she needs; it was difficult enough for her to accept that Lee and I are agents."  
  
"Amanda? You down here?" Both women jumped at the sound of Billy's voice.  
  
"Here!" Amanda called quickly, and he entered with a big smile on his face.  
  
"It's not him," he announced. Francine and Amanda hugged each other in relief.  
  
"Then where is he?" Amanda said in frustration after the initial joy faded.  
  
"We're working on it," he replied. "Why don't you two try to get some rest."  
  
"I'll be in the Q-Bureau," Amanda relented, heading upstairs, still worried but knowing that her husband was probably okay--for the moment; otherwise, that finger would have been his.  
  
"Wait," Billy stopped her, deciding she should know their progress. "We may have a lead. We matched the severed finger to a recent death in Baltimore, a guy who had ten fingers when he was buried."  
  
"So we may not be looking for a killer," Francine inferred. "This guy might just be an opportunist."  
  
"You think he robbed a grave?" Amanda asked.  
  
"Well," Billy replied, "We're digging the grave up now. But there is no evidence of tampering."  
  
"He works at the funeral home," Amanda concluded. How else would he have access?  
  
"And we'll be there first thing in the morning," Francine insisted. Finally, something they could do. Billy didn't argue.  
  
***  
  
There was enough evidence to bring Julius Frank in for questioning. The 45-year-old janitor at Baltimore's Peaceful Days Funeral Home and Cemetery did not plan on the unearthing of Timothy Johanson's coffin. Johanson had had few people attend his services; who would bother with the old geezer? Frank had reasoned. However, Frank's fingerprints were discovered on the coffin as well as on Johanson's left hand--which was missing a digit.  
  
"I don't know anything about no federal agent," the muscular man whined in the interrogation room. "I swear." Why didn't I wear gloves? he mentally kicked himself.  
  
Billy was handling this one personally, with the help of Francine. Amanda observed through the glass, knowing she was too close to participate.  
  
"Then why did you cut off a dead man's finger?!" Billy yelled, close to Frank's weathered face.  
  
Frank paused. How much should he tell them? He didn't know much to begin with. "It was a job," he admitted.  
  
"For who?" Come on, Billy pleaded silently, give us *something.*  
  
"Some guy. I don't know his name. He cornered me after work one day, said to meet him the next, and he'd have the cash." Simple, but true. "But he didn't say anything about no fed!"  
  
Billy and Francine exchanged looks.  
  
"We'll set up a lie-detector," Francine commented. "And we'll see if there were security cameras in place."  
  
Billy nodded, and they left the room. "We're getting there, Amanda. Hang on," he assured her.  
  
She watched them disappear down the corridor. Taking a deep breath, she entered the interrogation room.  
  
"Mr. Frank," she broached, feeling more like a worried wife than a federal agent. "You have to help me."  
  
"I got nothing else to say." Frank had never been arrested, but he could tell something was up. What could she want?  
  
"Please," she asked sincerely. "This is completely off the record. I'm not even supposed to be in here."  
  
He raised his eyebrows, curious. "What do you want?"  
  
"My husband is missing. He was receiving threats, then he disappeared. The finger you--found--was sent to my house. My two small boys saw it, and it scared them half to death. The note with it threatened me and claimed my husband was dead. I need to know where he is." Her explanation was completed in one breath, and she steadied herself with a hand on the table, keeping eye contact with the suspect.  
  
Frank liked this woman. A costly crack habit had persuaded him to accept the offer of the mysterious stranger. Who could find out? he had thought. He never planned for so much trouble.  
  
"Look, lady. I'm sorry about your husband," his gruff voice sounded unusually soft. "But I don't know anything about that."  
  
"What did this guy look like?" He had to know *some*thing.  
  
"Well-built for an old guy. I think he had a mustache. I don't know. It was dark."  
  
"He didn't say why?"  
  
"If you ask me, he was a nut. I thought maybe he had a collection." He shrugged his shoulders. "Halloween's coming up."  
  
Amanda nodded. "Thank you." She knew she wasn't going to get any more details.  
  
"I hope you find him," Frank told her truthfully as she opened the door.  
  
Billy and Francine were waiting.  
  
"Don't say it," Amanda commented. "I know."  
  
"What?" Francine replied, secretly admiring her determination.   
  
Billy shook his head, choosing to ignore her rule-bending. "We've got some film to go through."  
  
***  
  
"Okay, sweetheart, you be good for your father." Amanda smiled wearily as she hung up the phone. Her boys were doing fine, albeit somewhat scared. Joe had tried to assure them that Lee was just on an assignment, but they were old enough to know they weren't getting the whole story.  
  
She had little time to dwell on her family. She and Francine had gone through hours of film from the security camera near the funeral home, but had found nothing suspicious.  
  
"What's this?" Francine observed. Amanda rejoined her at the monitor. The two could see a couple of shadowy figures under the eaves of the funeral home. "Now we're getting somewhere."  
  
"It's him!" Amanda clarified, recognizing Julius Frank. "And the other guy has a moustache, just like Mr. Frank said."  
  
"All right. Let's see if Ernie the Camera can identify him."  
  
***  
  
Amanda stood at the ready to the side of the suspect's apartment door; Ernie had come through, and she made a mental note to have him to dinner once Lee came home. She was feeling positive now that she had something to do. The signal was given, and the agents kicked in the door, which immediately gave way from their force. Running through the apartment, armed and ready, they searched for signs of life or evidence that their missing comrade had been there.  
  
The place was plain and furnished with mostly the bare essentials. Amanda observed old scientific journals littering the floor, and she pushed 'mad scientist' images out of her head, concentrating on the search.  
  
"Here!" Agent Willis called. Amanda's face paled as she rushed with the others to the bedroom.  
  
It was Lee's wallet.  
  
***  
  
"What would Edward Trowbridge want with Lee?" Amanda asked Billy a few hours later at the Agency. A thorough search of Trowbridge's apartment had shown no clues as to where he might have taken Scarecrow. Only the wallet served as evidence that the two were connected; a bread crumb for the agents to follow. But at least it was something.  
  
Billy sighed. "I wish I knew. Trowbridge has no criminal record, no mention at all save for some car wreck when he was 18 and some rumors about his retirement. Nothing apparent in common with Lee... He does have a history of being somewhat eccentric, according to neighbors, but nothing illegal."  
  
"He is a retired biology teacher," Francine added. "He's in his sixties. He probably had help kidnapping Scarecrow."  
  
"Or it was a trap," Billy commented. "And Scarecrow managed to get away from our watchdogs. Lee didn't say anything about meeting an informant or anyone, Amanda?"  
  
She shook her head. "Biology?"  
  
"Mm-hm. I guess 'retired' isn't the right word exactly," Francine mentioned. "Apparently, he had a fling with one of his students back in the 70s... He's been somewhat of a hermit since then, making his living off writing research articles." She handed Amanda the file, which included a yellowed picture from his teaching days.  
  
"Oh my gosh."  
  
"What is it?" Billy asked.  
  
"Professor Trowbridge," she said almost to herself. "I can't believe I didn't remember his name."  
  
"You know him?" Francine questioned in surprise.  
  
"That's it. He wasn't after Lee at all. He's after me."  
  
"But why?" Billy was confused.  
  
"I was a junior in high school in Professor Trowbridge's bio class. All the girls joked that he was after me and I thought they were crazy of course because he was so much older than me, but when it came time to do our science projects, he made me stay after school and said he could guarantee an 'A' for me if I would teach him how to dance. It just didn't feel right to me so I said no and I ended up getting a 'B' in his class, which wasn't bad so I didn't think anything of it after that. But the next year my friend Nancy was in his class and she said she stayed after and he tried to get her to go with him to the school dance. What if he's after all of the girls? Maybe he's tired of being rejected."  
  
Francine didn't even comment on Amanda's breathless explanation, as she had grown used to them over the years. "Do you know Nancy's current last name? Or any of the others he may have asked to dance?"  
  
"Nancy Dicello. She married Mark right after high school, and they were still together at the last reunion. She may know some of the other girls."  
  
"Let's get on it," Billy ordered.  
  
***  
  
Nancy, a successful corporate attorney, was surprised to hear from Amanda. Their paths had taken different directions after college, and they rarely saw each other save for class reunions. "Mark is away on a business trip," she replied when asked. Her husband also practiced law, and it often required him to be out of town.  
  
"When's the last time you heard from him?" Amanda questioned, sipping the tea she had been offered as they sat at Nancy's kitchen table. Files and stacks of paper had been pushed aside to make room for them.  
  
Nancy found it ironic to be on the receiving end of questions. She still couldn't get over that sweet little Amanda was an accomplished federal agent. "Well, honestly, he was supposed to call a couple of days ago, but he gets so focused on his meetings... It's not unusual for him to miss calling." She diverted her eyes, and Amanda wondered if Mark had more than business planned for his trip.  
  
Amanda cleared her throat, getting down to business. "Have you received anything unusual in the mail?"  
  
Nancy thought for a moment then shook her head. "I don't think so." At Amanda's look she continued, "Jeff usually distributes the mail. His girlfriend's doing a semester abroad, and they write a lot."  
  
"Is your son home?"  
  
Nancy nodded. "Jeff!" she called.  
  
A handsome boy of 15 entered the room, wavy brown hair held back in a short ponytail. "Yeah Mom?"  
  
"Have we gotten any strange mail lately?"  
  
"Like what?" The teenager helped himself to some hors d'oeuvres that Nancy had set out for her company. His mother playfully slapped his hand away and looked at him reproachfully.  
  
Amanda answered him, smiling to herself as she thought of her own sons. "Notes with odd messages, no return address."  
  
"Oh yeah," Jeff laughed. "I think my brother sent those as a joke. He's stationed overseas."  
  
"Did you keep them?" Amanda asked hopefully.  
  
Jeff shook his head. "Weren't they from David?"  
  
"I'm afraid not." Amanda turned to her former classmate. "Nancy, we're going to have to put you both under surveillance for your own protection. And we have to find out where Mark went."  
  
***  
  
Looking through old yearbooks and interviewing former school personnel, agents were able to establish a pattern. It appeared that there had been one girl for each of his 15 years of teaching that Trowbridge had asked to dance--those that were currently single had received no notes, no family members missing. The seven with husbands had, in fact, received unusual letters; some dismissed them as a joke, others filed police reports with no results. Amanda, however, had been the first to receive a package. Five of the women reported their husbands to be out of town; none could be reached. Billy summoned the two remaining men and their wives to the Agency, placing all families on protective watch.  
  
"Mr. Myers," Billy asked, settling in at his desk. "You say you received a phone call?"  
  
"Yes," the wiry salesman answered. "Some guy asking me to meet with him. He said he had information on Sylvia. I thought it was a joke."  
  
His wife nodded. "He told me about it, and we agreed it was a prank. I have nothing to hide from my husband. And he never called back."  
  
"That's exactly how it was with us," Maggie Holmberg added. "My husband also received a phone call."  
  
"I didn't go," Bruce replied, "because the guy sounded like he had a few screws loose. What could he want with us? We're just an average family with a small hardware store."  
  
"You remember Professor Trowbridge," Amanda explained to his former pupils. "And he remembers us. He has threatened us, and he is trying to break up our families."  
  
"We have been unable to locate any of the five men that went out of town," Billy added. "They are no longer at the hotels where they were booked."  
  
Francine entered. "Peggy Felton just received a package." All stared in her direction. "He's getting more cautious. It's just hair this time--and a wedding band."  
  
"He's not killing them," Billy concluded. "So why does he want them?"  
  
Amanda answered nervously. "Bait. He wants us to come to him. That's why he left Lee's wallet. That's why he's sent the packages. There must be clues in there somewhere."  
  
"The school," Sylvia suggested. "Remember, Amanda, there was a basement under the science building? The teachers used it as a storage area and smoking room. I bet no one has been down there in years."  
  
Billy looked at his agents. "What are we waiting for?"  
  
***  
  
Formaldehyde permeated the building. There was no subtlety possible with this search, as the basement had no windows and only one way in or out. The women remembered where the door was--but were surprised to find a bookcase in its place, filled with old encyclopedias and retired science textbooks. Removing the heavy volumes, they discovered a lock. With the help of Leatherneck's training, Amanda was able to work it, causing the bookcase to swing forward, revealing the familiar old door.  
  
"This is as far as you go," Billy informed the alumni. He directed two of the agents to escort them back to safety. Guns at the ready, the remaining agents stormed the basement.  
  
Broken cobwebs and smeared dust covered desks with missing legs, an old model of a human skeleton, various taxidermed creatures, and other remnants. It was easy to spot what didn't belong.  
  
"It's them!" Francine announced, she and Amanda running towards the men tied together with rope against the far wall.  
  
Amanda scanned their weary faces and noted with fear that Lee was not among them. One, two, three, four, five, she counted to herself. Her husband was the only one missing.  
  
Francine had removed Marty Peterson's gag. "Did Trowbridge take Lee Stetson?"  
  
"Yes," Marty replied, coughing. "He must have known you were coming. He hasn't been gone more than twenty minutes." He shook his head. "It's almost like he was waiting for you."  
  
Amanda methodically helped remove the gags from the remaining men, hoping to learn of Lee's fate. "Did he say what he wanted?"  
  
"He's nuts," John Marshall replied, rubbing his red and chapped wrists. "He just paced back and forth rambling about some dance."  
  
"There's a dance in the gym in just a few hours," Robert Brannen commented. He smiled as he thought of his family. "My daughter's been talking about it for a month. It's a costume ball for Halloween."  
  
"He'll be there," Amanda announced to Francine, her instincts kicking in. He took Lee there; he wants me to find him, she thought to herself. He's finishing what he started all those years ago, trying to find a girl to take to the dance. Aloud, she concluded, "He wants me to be his date."  
  
***  
  
The women were relieved to be reunited with their husbands, who believed they had been surprised with chloroform to their faces then taken to the school basement. None remembered how they got there. Amanda noted when all of the couples were together that the women were all slender, tall brunettes.  
  
"Billy," she asked on a hunch, "was Trowbridge ever married?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"His targets all look alike."  
  
"Wait," Francine said, leafing through his file. "There was a girl mentioned somewhere... Ah, here it is. 'Leslie Walters, 17, was a passenger in the car Edward Trowbridge, 18, was driving drunk when it slammed into a tree, killing the girl. Trowbridge was taken to Memorial Hospital.'"  
  
"What was the date of the accident?" Amanda asked.  
  
Francine looked up from the file, understanding in her voice. "October 31st."  
  
"They were on their way to the school dance," Amanda inferred. "He was trying to replace her. That's why he wants me there."  
  
"Are you sure you're up to this?" Billy asked, concerned.   
  
She nodded. "I'll pretend I'm Leslie. That's who he's been looking for all these years. I just wish I knew why he suddenly snapped."  
  
***  
  
Music blared from the high school gymnasium, and students in a wide variety of costumes danced and laughed, enjoying the goofy decorations and orange and black snacks.  
  
After some quick and lucky research, Amanda had been able to contact Leslie's younger sister, and get full details of the crash. She and her parents had been forced to move out of state when the restraining order against Trowbridge did not work. "Eddie had been heartbroken at what had happened, and something must have snapped," she told Amanda. "He came calling every night for Leslie after she died. It was killing my parents. We tried to have the law keep him away, tried talking to his family, but he was unstoppable. So we left, and he never tracked us down."  
  
Leslie had been dressed as the Good Witch from the "Wizard of Oz," and Amanda had pulled rank at a local costume shop to obtain such an outfit. Trowbridge had been dressed as none other than the Scarecrow.  
  
"It's all coming into place," Billy assured his nervous agent. "We're going to find him tonight."  
  
"He chose me because he found out that Lee is the Scarecrow," she agreed. "But why act now after all these years in retirement?" Amanda couldn't understand why this was all happening nearly 20 years after she'd been in high school.  
  
"It's an anniversary," Billy thought aloud. "One of many, true... What's so special about this one?"  
  
"I wasn't married to Scarecrow last year," Amanda suggested. At least as far as you know, she added silently. "But why go after the other women if he knew I was married to Scarecrow? Why wouldn't he just want me?"  
  
"A cover?" Billy guessed. "Not a very subtle one. He took all the men, then allowed us to find them--all but Lee."  
  
Amanda nodded. "How am I supposed to recognize him? What if there's more than one Scarecrow costume?"  
  
"Let him come to you."  
  
"I feel rather out of place, though I guess the kids will assume I'm a chaperone."  
  
Billy nodded. "Can you hear us, Francine?"  
  
"Loud and clear." Her voice fed into Billy's ear piece. Amanda was wearing the mike.  
  
"We'll be waiting for a signal," he reminded Amanda. "Good luck."  
  
"Got it," Amanda replied, holding her dress so she wouldn't trip as she walked towards the gym.  
  
"Monster Mash" was playing as she entered. The air was warm from the moving bodies, and she surveyed the room. No sign of anyone dressed as Scarecrow.  
  
Someone poked her arm, and she jumped.  
  
"Amanda, imagine seeing you here." A short, plump redhead greeted her.  
  
She managed a smile. "Mrs. Foust," she acknowledged to the head of the local PTA. "How are you?"  
  
"Isn't this a kick? Molly is so embarrassed that I'm chaperoning, but what do you expect at that age? I promised not to dance."  
  
Amanda laughed. "Oh yes. Well, I heard they were short tonight and volunteered to help."  
  
"That's just like you. Always wanting to help."  
  
"Hey," she tried to sound casual. "Have you seen a fella dressed as the Scarecrow from the 'Wizard of Oz'?"  
  
"I think he's over near the bleachers. Trying to catch the couples who want to be alone, you know. Costumes seem to make them braver."  
  
"Yes, well, I think I'll go see what he's up to."  
  
"Have fun. I'll see you Tuesday night at the next meeting."  
  
Amanda waved and wandered over to the bleachers. Some were folded up against the wall, but others were out to give room for students to rest.  
  
"Leslie!" a vaguely familiar voice greeted from behind the bleachers. "What took you so long, dear? Was there a long line for punch?"  
  
Amanda tensed. "Uh, no, I changed my mind," she answered, noting that Trowbridge no longer had a moustache. He had make-up on to match his costume, but it couldn't cover up the many wrinkles that had formed in his face, and his cap did not hide his thinning gray hair. In spite of what he had done, she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. "I was thinking it would be nice to go outside for some fresh air."  
  
"Of course," he answered, putting his arm around her and leading her through the back doors of the locker rooms. "We can have some privacy."  
  
Amanda scanned the area behind the bleachers, then the locker room, but saw no signs of her husband. "Did you come alone?" she inquired.  
  
"Why, don't be silly. You were with me. I picked you up in my car, and we came straight here." Leslie certainly is acting strange tonight, he thought to himself. Maybe she's worried about her science test on Monday. I don't want to talk about that now, though, he decided. If only I knew more about the subject so I could help her...  
  
"Of course," she laughed, interrupting his reflections. "I was just wondering if we could say hello to my friend. Have you seen Lee Stetson?"  
  
Anger clouded his eyes but passed quickly. "I've never heard the name." But then, it sounded vaguely familiar. He shook his head, confusing thoughts filling his addled mind.  
  
"Oh. Well, he wanted to take me to the dance, too." Amanda wondered if she was heading in the right direction. But she had to act quickly. What if Trowbridge had harmed Lee?  
  
"But you came with me," he reminded her. "That's all that matters." Why does she keep talking about this Stetson person?  
  
"I wanted to go with Lee." Amanda saw that agents were ready at both ends of the locker room. "Because he is my husband. You were my teacher, Professor Trowbridge, and this night, sad as it was, ended many years ago. Leslie was killed. She's not coming back."  
  
"NO!" he screamed, a migraine pressing behind his eyes. This can't be happening. Not again. "You are Leslie."  
  
"No, I'm Amanda. I was in your class years ago--Amanda West. You asked me to the dance, but I said no. I didn't understand, but I do now. You need help. And I need my husband back."  
  
Trowbridge pulled out a bottle of chloroform, but the stress of the past few weeks had caught up with him. Amanda's self-defense training paid off as she pushed his arm to the side and kicked his kneecap. He went down, the bottle breaking when it hit the cement floor. Faint fumes permeated the locker room. Trowbridge's nostrils burned as his befuddled mind tried to process what was happening. Blood seeped slowly from his right palm, which had landed on a broken piece of bottle. Agents rushed in to handcuff him.  
  
"Where is Lee?" Amanda demanded, seeing an empty brown prescription bottle that had fallen from his pocket and rolled a few feet away. What if he had poisoned him?  
  
"I wasn't going to hurt them," he said breathlessly, clutching his knee. Reality had begun to seep in.  
  
"Why did you send the notes? Why the finger?"  
  
"I just wanted Leslie back." Tears caused the makeup on his cheeks to smear. "She was so beautiful. It was an accident. You were so much like her."  
  
"I just want Lee back," Amanda said softly.  
  
Agents had helped the old man to his feet, supporting him due to his injured knee. Agent Willis picked up the prescription bottle and recognized the drug. "Haldol. It's used a lot for controlling schizophrenia," he noted to his fellow agents.  
  
Trowbridge sighed, wiping his eyes on his shoulder. "You already have Scarecrow," he said sadly.  
  
"What?" What is he talking about? she wondered. Does he mean himself or Lee?  
  
"I thought we'd go away together, you wouldn't need him anymore." He sighed. "I kept track of all the special girls in my classes. You all had improved markedly in science, and you all looked so much like her. I was waiting to find the right one. All these years, I couldn't recognize you, Leslie." He was slipping back into his fantasy world. "I've seen your picture in the newspaper before, but I didn't know it was you until I saw your wedding announcement. I did some research. It was easy; various magazines had me doing scientific research, so I had the access. It was then I knew you were the one, you were married to the Scarecrow. I should have been him. We could have been so happy together."  
  
"Where is he?" She touched his shoulder. "Please."  
  
"I returned him."  
  
Amanda glanced at Billy. Once her family had been placed in the safe-house, her home had been unwatched.  
  
"Let's go," she insisted, trying not to trip on her costume as she ran for the door.  
  
***  
  
It was 9 o'clock. Amanda's porch light was off; for once, she was not in the mood for trick-or-treaters, though she hadn't bothered to remove her costume. After a thorough search of their house, the Agency, and Lee's regular haunts, there was still no sign of him. Trowbridge had become incoherent after he was taken from the school, and the Agency was at a standstill. The one thing that had relieved her was being able to call Joe and tell him it was okay for the boys to go trick-or-treating. They had stopped by the house, laughed at their mother's attire, and changed into their homemade hobo costumes. Joe snapped some pictures, hugged encouragement to his ex-wife, and escorted the boys door-to-door. For once, they did not argue that they were old enough to go by themselves. Dotty had gone to bed with a migraine. Only Joe knew that Lee's whereabouts were still unknown.  
  
Amanda lay groggily on the couch, bending the wings of her costume. Her sleepless and worry-filled nights were catching up with her. The rest of her family was safe now, she was sure, but what about her husband? They had run out of ideas where to look.  
  
The doorbell rang. She ignored it, assuming it to be some teen trick-or-treaters, not taking the hint. But they were persistent. She sighed and pushed herself up wearily from the couch. "I'm sorry," she said as she opened the door. "We don't have candy this year."  
  
"That's okay. You're sweet enough for me."  
  
Amanda stood open mouthed staring into the welcome eyes of her husband. "Lee!" she finally whispered, throwing open the screen and wrapping her arms around him. Tears filled her eyes, and she sobbed into his unkempt shirt.  
  
"Hey, hey, it's okay now. I'm fine." He stroked her hair and held her tight, noting how good it felt to be in her arms again. He had been so worried about her when that crazy old guy had taken him. Why he had agreed to meet him at the park he didn't know. He had felt guilty at not telling Amanda after their earlier conversation, but she hadn't been home, and he didn't think it was worth calling her over. He would tell her later. He hadn't expected the frail-looking guy to jump him and hold the chloroform rag to his face. Where'd he get the energy? And why did I lose my Agency tail? I should have let them follow me; then Amanda wouldn't have had to go through all this...  
  
Lee kissed the top of Amanda's head. It didn't matter now. He had called Billy from a pay phone downtown, where he had awakened in an alley, and Billy had driven him back to the house, promising to let Lee tell Amanda in person that he was okay.   
  
She finally pulled away, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I love you," she said, her voice chocked full of emotion.  
  
Lee grinned, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I love you." He leaned in to kiss her, glad to be home.  
  
When the fervent kiss finally ended, Lee couldn't resist. "I've learned something, Amanda."  
  
"Tell me where you're going at all times?" she looked at him, trying to be stern but unable to keep the happy sparkle from her eyes.  
  
"Well, that, but also--" he winked, his fingers running down the length of her bent wings. "There's no place like home."  
  
She smacked his chest playfully. "Get in here, Scarecrow." She pulled his tie, and he dutifully followed her upstairs to clean up.   
  
It may have been a joke, he thought to himself, but this is the first real home I've ever had.  
  
"Amanda?" he asked as she adjusted the bath water temperature and began unbuttoning his shirt. "Do you know how much you mean to me?"  
  
She smiled and looked into his beautiful green eyes. "Yes. But you still have to take a bath first."  
  
Lee rolled his eyes. "Amanda--"  
  
"I know," she turned serious. "Believe me, I know. It's been hell around here without you. And to think this really wasn't even about the Agency." She paused. "There was a package sent to the house."  
  
"Billy told me everything."  
  
She nodded. "I have a confession... I began to question our decision. I wondered if it really was safe for my--our--family. But then I realized that we can't protect them from the world. Anything can happen. And we are a lot stronger together than we are apart."  
  
Lee pulled her towards him in a tight embrace. "You bet we are."  
  
After a moment, she sighed. "It's sad, you know."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Professor Trowbridge spent his whole life searching for the woman he loved, even though he could never find her."  
  
Lee looked longingly into her eyes. "That's why I'm so lucky." Ignoring the nearly full bathtub, they kissed deeply.  
  
Outside, crisp leaves fell from trees, children begged for candy door-to-door, and at 4247 Maplewood, steam from the running hot water wasn't the only thing that fogged the bathroom mirror.  
  
  
THE END


End file.
